CHAPTER VI.

PREPARING FOR TRIAL.

THERE were many reasons why I did not wish to be tried at the
Old Bailey. First, it is an ordinary criminal court, with all the
vulgar characteristics of such places: swarms of loud policemen,
crowds of chattering witnesses, prison-warders bent on recognising
old offenders, ushers who look soured by long familiarity with
crime, clerks who gabble over indictments with the voice and manner
of a town-crier, barristers in and out of work, some caressing a
brief and some awaiting one; and a large sprinkling of idle
persons, curious after a fresh sensation and eager to gratify a
morbid appetite for the horrible. How could the greatest orator
hope to overcome the difficulties presented by such surroundings?
The most magnificent speech would be shorn of its splendor, the
most powerful robbed of more than half its due effect. In the next
place, I should have to appear in the dock, and address the jury
from a position which seems to require an apology in itself. And,
further, that jury would be a common one, consisting almost
entirely of small tradesmen, the very worst class to try such an
indictment.

For these and other reasons I resolved to obtain, if possible, a
certiorari to remove our Indictment to the Court of Queen's
Bench; and as the first Indictment had been so removed, I did not
anticipate any serious difficulty. On Monday, February 19, after
travelling by the night train from Plymouth, where I had delivered
three lectures the day before, I applied before Justices Manisty
and Matthew, who granted me a rule nisi. But on the Saturday
Sir Hardinge Giffard moved that the rule should be taken out of its
order in the Crown Paper, and argued on the following Tuesday.
Seeing that the Court was determined to assist him, I acquiesced in
the motion rather than waste my time in futile obstruction. On
Tuesday, February 27, Sir Hardinge Giffard duly appeared, supported
by two junior counsel, Mr. Poland and Mr. F. Lewis. The judges, as
on the previous Saturday, were Baron Huddleston and Mr. Justice
North. The former displayed the intensest bigotry and prejudice,
and the latter all that flippant insolence which he subsequently
displayed at my trial, and which appears to be an inseparable part
of his character. When, for instance, I ventured to correct Sir
Hardinge Giffard on a mere matter of fact, as is quite customary in
such cases; when I sought to point out that the Indictment already
removed included Mr. Ramsey and myself, and not Mr. Bradlaugh only;
Justice North stopped me with "Not a word, sir, not a word."

Sir Hardinge Giffard made a very short speech, knowing that such
judges did not require much persuasion. He moved that the rule
nisi should be discharged; put in a copy of the Christmas
Number of the Freethinker, which he described as a gross and
intentional outrage on the religious feelings of the public;
alleged, as was perfectly true, that it was still being sold; and
urged that the case was one that should be sent for trial at once.

My reply was longer. After claiming the indulgence of the Court
for having to appear in person, owing to my purse being shorter
than the London Corporation's, I laid before their lordships my
reasons for asking them to make the rule absolute. I argued that,
as a press offence, our case was eminently one for a special jury;
that the law of blasphemy, which had not been interpreted for a
generation, was very indefinite, and a common jury might be easily
misled; that as contradictory statements of the common law existed,
it was highly advisable to have an authoritative judgment in a
superior Court; that grave questions as to the relations of the
statute and the common law might also arise; that it was manifestly
unfair, while a sweeping Indictment for blasphemy was removed to a
higher Court, that I should be compelled to plead in a lower Court
on a similar charge; and that it was unjust to try our case at the
Old Bailey when the City Corporation was prosecuting us.

To none of these reasons, however, did their lordships vouchsafe
a reply or extend a consideration. Baron Huddleston simply held the
Christmas Number of the Freethinker up in Court, and
declared that no sane man could deny that it was a blasphemous
libel -- a contumelious reproach on our Blessed Savior. But that
was not the point at issue. Whether the prosecuted publication was
a blasphemous libel or not, was a question for the jury at the
proper time and in the proper place. All Baron Huddleston was
concerned with was whether a fairer trial might be obtained in a
higher Court than in a lower one, and before a special jury than
before a common one. That question he never touched, and the one he
did touch he was bound by legal and moral rules not to deal with at
all.

Justice North briefly concurred with his learned brother, and
refrained from adding anything because he would probably have to
try the case at the Old Bailey himself. What a pity he did not
reflect on the injustice of publicly branding as blasphemous the
very men he was going to try for blasphemy within forty-eight
hours!

The next morning, February 29, Mr. Ramsey, Mr. Kemp and I duly
appeared at the Old Bailey. Before the regular business commenced,
I asked his lordship (it was indeed Justice North) to postpone our
trial until the next sessions, on the ground that, as my
application for a certiorari was only decided the day
before, there had been no time to prepare an adequate defence. His
lordship refused to grant us an hour for that absurd purpose.
Directly I sat down Mr. Poland arose, and begged that our trial
might be deferred until the morrow, as his leader, Sir Hardinge
Giffard, was obliged to attend elsewhere. This request was granted
with a gracious smile and a bland, "Of course, Mr. Poland." What a
spectacle! An English judge refusing a fellow-citizen a single hour
for the defence of his liberty and perhaps his life, and granting a
delay of twenty-four hours to enable a brother lawyer to earn his
fee!

I spent the rest of that day in preparations for the morrow --
writing out directions for Mr. Wheeler in case I should be sent to
prison, arranging books and documents, and leaving messages with
various friends; and I sat far into the night putting together
finally the notes for my defence. I was quite cool and collected; I
neglected nothing I had time for, and I was dead asleep five
minutes after I laid my head on the pillow. Only for a moment was I
even perturbed. It was when I was giving Mr. Wheeler his last
instructions. Pointing to my book-shelves, I said: "Now, Joe,
remember that if Mrs. Foote has any need, or if there should ever
be a hitch with the paper, you are to sell my books -- all of them
if necessary." A great sob shook my friend from head to foot. The
bitter truth seemed to strike him with startling force.
Imprisonment, and all it involved, was no longer a dim possibility:
it was a grim reality that might have to be faced to-morrow. "Tut,
tut, Joe!" I said, grasping his arm and laughing. But the laugh was
half a failure, and there was a suspicious moisture in my eyes,
which I turned my face away to conceal.

During the day I had a last interview with Mr. Bradlaugh and
Mrs. Besant at 63 Fleet Street. Mr. Bradlaugh told me he could find
no flaw in our Indictment, and his air was that of a man who sees
no hope, but is reluctant to say so. Mrs. Besant was full of quiet
sympathy, proffering this and that kindness, and showing how much
her heart was greater than her opportunity of assistance.

In the evening I attended the monthly Council meeting of the
National Secular Society. Mr. Ramsey was also present. We both
expressed our belief that we should not meet our fellow-councillors
again for some time, and solemnly wished them good-bye, with a hope
that, if we were sent to prison, they would seize the opportunity,
and initiate an agitation against the Blasphemy Laws. I then drove
home, and finished the notes for my defence.

Early the next morning I was at 28 Stonecutter Street. Being
apprehensive of a fine as well as imprisonment, I made hasty
arrangements for removing the whole of the printing plant to some
empty rooms in a private house. Mr. A. Hilditch was the friend on
whom I relied in this emergency; and I am indebted to him for aid
in many other difficulties arising from my prosecution. My foreman
printer, Mr. A. Watkin, superintended the removal. By the evening
not a particle of our plant remained at the office. Mr. Watkin
stuck loyally to his duty during my long absence, and on my return
I found how much the Freethinker owed to his unassuming
devotion.

One ordeal was left. I had to say good-bye to my wife. It was a
dreadful moment. Reticence is wisdom in such cases. I will not
inflict sentiment on the reader, and I was never given to wearing
my heart upon my sleeve. Let it suffice that I fought down even the
last weakness. When I stepped into the Old Bailey dock I was calm
and collected. All my energies were strung for one task -- the
defence of my own liberty and of the rights of Freethought.

That very morning the Freethinker appeared with its usual
illustration. It was the last number I edited for twelve months. My
final article was entitled, "No Surrender," and I venture to quote
it in full, as exhibiting my attitude towards the prosecution
within the shadow of the prison walls: --

"The City Corporation is lavishly spending other
people's money in its attempt to put down the Freethinker.
Sir Thomas Nelson is keeping the pot boiling. He employs Sir
Hardinge Giffard and a tail of juniors in Court, and half the
detectives of London outside. These surreptitious gentleman, who
ought to be engaged in detecting crime, are busily occupied in
purchasing the Freethinker, waylaying newsvendors'
messengers, intimidating shopkeepers, and serving notices on the
defendants. What money, unscrupulously obtained and unscrupulously
expended, can do is being done. But there is one thing it cannot
do. It cannot damp our courage or alienate the sympathy of our
friends.

"There is evidently a widespread conspiracy against us. We have
to stand on trial at the Old Bailey in company with rogues,
thieves, burglars, murderers, and other products of Christian
civilisation. The company is not very agreeable, but then Jesus
himself was crucified between two thieves. No doubt the Jews
thought him the worst of the three, just as pious Christians will
think us worse than the vilest criminal at the Old Bailey; but
posterity has reversed the judgment on him, and it will as
certainly reverse the judgment on us.

"If a jury should give a verdict against us, which we trust it
will not, the prosecutors will probably strike again at some other
Freethought publication. The appetite for persecution grows by what
it feeds on, and demands sacrifice after sacrifice until it is
checked by the aroused spirit of humanity. After a sleep of
twenty-five years the great beast has roused itself, and it may do
considerable damage before it is driven back into its lair. We may
witness a repetition of the scenes of fifty and sixty years ago,
when scores of brave men and women faced fine and imprisonment for
Freethought, tired out the very malice of their persecutors; and
made the Blasphemy Laws a dead letter for a whole generation. May
our victory be as great as theirs, even if our sufferings be less.

"But will they be less? Who knows? They may even be greater.
Christian charity has grown so cold-blooded in its vindictiveness
since the 'pioneer days' that blasphemers are treated like beasts
rather than men. There is a certain callous refinement in the
punishment awarded to heretics to-day. Richard Carlile, and other
heroes of the struggle for a free press, were mostly treated as
first-class misdemeanants; they saw their friends when they liked,
had whatever fare they could paid for, were allowed the free use of
books and writing materials, and could even edit their papers from
gaol. All that is changed now. A 'blasphemer' who is sent to prison
now gets a month of Cross's plank-bed, is obliged to subsist on the
miserable prison fare, is dressed in the prison garb, is compelled
to submit to every kind of physical indignity, is shut out from all
communication with his relatives or friends except for one visit
during the second three months, is denied the use of pen and ink,
and debarred from all reading except the blessed Book. England and
Russia are the only countries in Europe that make no distinction
between press offenders and ordinary criminals. The brutal
treatment which was meted out to Mr. Truelove in his seventieth
year, when his grey hairs should have been his protection, is what
the outspoken sceptic must be prepared to face. After eighteen
centuries of Christianity, and an interminable procession of
Christian 'evidences,' such is the reply of orthodoxy to the
challenge of its critics.

"These things, however, cannot terrorise us. We are prepared to
stand by our principles at all hazard. Our motto is No Surrender.
What we might concede to criticism we will never yield to menace.
The Freethinker, we repeat again, will go on whatever be the
result of the present trial. The flag will not fall because one
standard-bearer is stricken down; it will be kept flying proudly
and bravely as of old -- shot-torn and blood-stained perhaps, but
flying, flying, flying!"

Let me now pause to say a few words about our Indictment. It was
framed on the model of the one I have already described charging us
with being wicked and profane persons, instigated by the Devil to
publish certain blasphemous libels in the Christmas Number of the
Freethinker, to the danger of the Queen's Crown and dignity
and the public peace, and to the great displeasure of Almighty God.
The various "blasphemies" were set forth in full, and my readers
shall know what they were.

Mr. Wheeler's comic "Trial for Blasphemy" was one of the pieces.
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were accused of blasphemy in the Court
of Common Sense. They were charged with publishing all the
absurdities in the four gospels, and in especial with stating that
a certain young Jew was God Almighty himself. After the citation
and examination of many witnesses, Mr. Smart, Q.C., urged upon the
jury that there was absolutely no evidence against the prisoners.
It was perfectly clear that they were not the authors of the
libels; their names had been used without their knowledge or
sanction; and he confidently appealed to the jury for a verdict of
Not Guilty. "After a brief consultation," concluded this clever
skit, "the jury, who had carefully examined the documents, were of
opinion that there was nothing to prove that the prisoners wrote
the libels complained of. A verdict of acquittal was accordingly
entered, and the prisoners were discharged."

Now, every person acquainted with Biblical criticism knows that
Mr. Wheeler simply put the conclusions of nearly all reputable
scholars in a bright, satirical way; and a century hence people
will be astonished to learn that such a piece of defensible irony,
every line of which might be justified by tons of learning, was
included in an indictment for blasphemy, and considered heinous
enough to merit severe punishment.

There were a few lines of verse picked out of long poems, and
violently forced from their context; and also a few facetious
"Answers to Correspondents," mangled in the same way. Certainly any
publication could be condemned on this plan. The Bible itself might
be proved an obscene book.

Then came eighteen illustrations, entitled "A New Life of
Christ." All the chief miracles of his career were satirised, but
not a single human incident was made the subject of ridicule. Now,
if miracles are not objects of satire, I should like to know
what are. If they never happened, why should they enjoy more
respect and protection than other delusions? Why should one man be
allowed to deny miracles, and another man imprisoned for laughing
at them? Must we regard long-faced scepticism as permissible
heresy, and broad-faced scepticism as punishable blasphemy? And if
so, why not set up a similar distinction between long and broad
faces in every other department of thought? Why not let
Punch and Fun be suppressed, political cartoons be
Anathema, and social satire a felony?

Another illustration was called "A Back View." It represented
Moses enjoying a panoramic view of Jahveh's "back parts." Judge
North did his dirty worst to misrepresent this picture, and perhaps
it was he who induced the Home Secretary to believe that our
publication was "obscene." In reality the obscenity is in the
Bible. The writer of Exodus contemplated sheer nudity, but the
Freethinker dressed Jahveh in accordance with the more
decent customs of the age of reason. I would cite on this point the
judgment of Mr. Moncure D. Conway, the famous minister of South
Place Chapel. He expressed himself as follows in a discourse on
Blasphemous Libel immediately after our imprisonment, since
published in "Lessons for the Day": --

"The prosecutor described the libels as 'indecent,' an
ambiguous word which might convey to the public an impression that
there was something obscene about the pictures or language, which
is not the fact. The coarsest picture is a sidewise view of a
giant's form, in laborer's garb, the upper and lower part veiled by
a cloud. Only when one knows that the figure is meant for Jahveh
could any shock be felt. The worst sense of the word 'indecent' was
accentuated by the prosecutor's saying that the libels were too bad
for him to describe. In this way they were withheld from the public
intelligence while exaggerated to its imagination. The fact under
this is that some bigots wished to punish some Atheists, but could
only single them out beside eminent men equally guilty, and
forestall public sympathy by pretending they had committed a libel
partly obscene. This is not English."

Frederick the Great, being a king, was a privileged blasphemer.
In some unquotable verses written after the battle of Rossbach,
where he routed the French and drove them off the field pell-mell,
he sings, as Carlyle says, "with a wild burst of spiritual
enthusiasm, the charms of the rearward part of certain men; and
what a royal ecstatic felicity there is in indisputable survey of
the same." "He rises," adds Carlyle, "to the heights of
Anti-Biblical profanity, quoting Moses on the Hill of Vision." To
Soubise and Company the poet of Potsdam sings --

Frederick's verse is halting enough, but it has "a certain
heartiness and epic greatness of cynicism"; and so his biographer
continues justifying this royal outburst of racy profanity with
Rabelaisian gusto. I dare not follow him; but I am anxious to know
why Carlyle's "Frederick" circulates with impunity and even
applause, while the Freethinker is condemned and denounced.
Judge North may be ignorant of Carlyle's masterpiece, but I can
hardly presume the same ignorance in Sir William Harcourt. He
probably sinned against a greater light. Few worse outrages on
public decency have been committed than his describing my
publication as not only blasphemous, but obscene. And the
circumstances in which this slander was perpetrated served to
heighten its criminality.